


On The Road

by likelike_love



Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likelike_love/pseuds/likelike_love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four drabbles (I'm using the term in the loosest sense), unrelated except for the fact that they all feature Mary and Marshall driving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Road

**Author's Note:**

> There is no narrative thrust (hey, watch it there, dirty!), so little, in fact, that I considered calling it Going Nowhere. This is my first real attempt at fanfic, and it ain't pretty. Thanks to pip! and anna for encouraging me.
> 
> [Originally posted](http://mary-marshall.livejournal.com/173310.html) on mary_marshall.livejournal.com on August 29, 2009.

They argued constantly about the radio. Eventually they resolved that it was driver’s choice. Since Mary rarely surrendered the wheel, they listened to a lot of classic rock. Her voice was loud and unabashedly off-key as she worked their way through the Rolling Stones' Sticky Fingers and on to Led Zeppelin IV. When Marshall finally took his turn at the wheel, he reached behind the seat to retrieve a CD case and popped in a disc of North American bird calls. Mary groaned as he grinned foolishly at her. She gritted her teeth. For the next 20 minutes, he burst out with a series of trills and whistles, echoing the sounds on the CD. She turned her head so he couldn’t see her crack a smile. By the 18th species, she finally adopted an “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” attitude. Marshall turned towards her and with a straight face, he complimented her swallow. Her fist collided with his shoulder with enough force to give him dead arm for the next 10 minutes, as his high pitched giggle filled the cab of the truck.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When the needle bounced precariously close to E, they stopped at a filling station for gas. Mary hopped out of the driver’s seat and jammed her credit card roughly into the pump. Marshall unfolded himself from the passenger seat, and moved to the back of the truck, rustling around in the cargo area. Eventually he emerged with a plastic crate filled with bottles of coolant, wiper fluid, and motor oil. He made his way around the front to the driver’s door, reached in and popped the hood. “Really, Marshall?” He shot a look that silenced her immediately. She finished filling the tank and made her way into the convenience store. Mary emerged several minutes later, with two cups of coffee that had poured from the stained decanter like syrup, and a plastic bag containing an enormous lemon poppy seed muffin and a pack of radioactive-looking Sno Balls for him, strawberry Pop-Tarts and glazed donut for her. She sat sidesaddle in the passenger seat, the door open and her feet resting on the running board, waiting for him to complete his tasks, sighing loudly and bouncing up and down enough to shake the truck. For his part, Marshall refused to be rushed. Finally, he slammed the hood shut, and stowed the gear in the back of the truck, wending his way to the driver’s seat.

“Marshall, you do realize we’re on a tight schedule here, right?” He rubbed his temples as she continued, “For chrissakes, I haven’t even checked the fluids in my car for the entire 8 years I’ve owned it...” His head shot up and he swiveled his entire upper body around to face her. He wore an exasperated expression.. “Okay, okay, point taken, but seriously, Marshall, we got this thing from the motorpool yesterday… how likely is it-“ 

He put a hand up to stop her. Said, quietly, “Mary, the last time we broke down…” before his words trailed off. 

Her eyes widened in understanding, “Marshall, the truck was tampered with, and there was no way of knowing…” 

“Still, if something were to happen now, to you, and I could have prevented it…” his voice was higher than normal, thick with emotion. _What will I do with this ridiculous man, shoulders stooped from the weight of the world?_ He looked down. 

She placed one finger below his chin, tilting his head up to look at her. “Okay," eyes searching his, "Hey, hey, okay. Everyone’s okay here. We’re okay.” 

He nodded and tried coughing away the tickle at the back of his throat.

She clapped her hands together, declaring a little too enthusiastically, "Now, let's have some breakfast... Road food!" She rustled through the plastic bag at her feet for a few seconds and emerged triumphant. His eyes lit up in spite of himself, as she dangled the package of Sno Balls in front of him. He opened the pack, peeled the marshmallow and coconut off in a single layer and passed the chocolate cake to Mary. He shoved the entire floppy, pink dome into his mouth, before tucking the package into the console and turning the engine over. She picked at the snack cake thoughtfully. They drove on in companionable silence, each lost in their own memories of another day on a different road.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They drove through the night in shifts. Each marshal driving until the yellow lines began to blur and their head grew heavy. He woke her with a gentle squeeze of his fingers curled around her bicep. She woke him with a spit-moistened index finger grinding into his left ear.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He rambled on about some odd fact or another. She pulled her hair back in a low ponytail, and rolled the window down, effectively drowning him out. She stuck her bare foot out the window, resting it on the side mirror, and eventually fell asleep. He shook his head, tuned the radio to a classical station, adjusted the volume and absently conducted an invisible symphony with his left hand. Three hours later, he was pulling off the desert highway into a rest area. He didn’t even try to stifle the laugh that emerged when she woke up cursing, the top of her foot sunburnt and stinging.

They used the restrooms, then plopped down at a worn picnic table in the shade of the building. Marshall had bought two rather suspicious looking ham and cheese sandwiches from a vending machine and passed one to her. She pissed and moaned between bites about the flames wicking from the top of her foot. He balled up the packaging when they were finished and gestured for her to keep her seat. She stretched out on the picnic bench, enjoying the breeze, and marveling at the fact that even after 25 minutes at rest in the shade, her body still felt as if she was in motion. 

She felt his shadow cast over her when he returned to the table. "Just a few more minutes," she sighed, and didn't bother to open her eyes until she felt a cool, wet sensation on the top of her foot. Her eyes flew open to see Marshall standing over her, scraping the gel from inside of a prickly pear with a pocket knife onto her sunburnt foot.

"Holy hell, that's cold!"

He tossed the fruit back into the nearby brush. "Yeah, but it should help. Native tribes of Mexico and the Southwest have been using it to treat burns for hundreds of years." He gently spread the gel across the top of her foot with just the pads of his fingers, then made a dramatic show of wiping his hand on the leg of her jeans.

"Hey, you better watch it, medicine man!" she shouted, tossing him a dangerous look.

Marshall just laughed and reached a hand down to help haul her off the bench. "C'mon, Hopalong. We're five hours from Albuquerque and I intend to be home for dinner."


End file.
